


Grand Slam

by harlequin87



Category: Rugby Union RPF
Genre: M/M, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 01:04:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6494758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harlequin87/pseuds/harlequin87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ficlet based just after England won the 2016 Grand Slam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grand Slam

The final whistle blew, and everyone was celebrating. Ben was jumping around like a kangaroo, Chris and James were clutching each other and rocking back and forth and Mike was on the floor crying. George looked around the Stade de France with wide eyes, excitement/relief/triumph thrumming through him. Sensing Owen's approach, George span round and leapt into his arms. They were both shaking with adrenaline and pent-up emotion.

"I'm so happy!" George shouted into Owen's ear. He could have thought it, but he was feeling too exuberant.  _I know_ , Owen thought. George squeezed his soulmate tightly.  _Can you believe it, though? Ten years later, we've won the Grand Slam!_ Owen nodded jerkily and pressed a gentle kiss into the curve of George's neck to hide the tears gathering in his eyes.

They stood, wrapped up in each other, in the middle of the pitch for several more minutes before Owen was called away to talk to the media. Reluctantly, George relinquished his boyfriend and joined the handshake line. During Owen's interview, George had to hold back a few sniggers at the flashes of boredom/impatience burrowing through the joy/pride. After receiving hugs from the English players and odd looks from the French, George went to loiter behind the TV cameras and wait for Owen.

After a few minutes, Owen emerged and made a beeline for George. They embraced again. The physical contact only heightened their shared emotions. George could feel every place where he and Owen were touching, and it was making him light-headed. "This is amazing!" He yelled. To anyone else, it would have been incomprehensible, but Owen understood him perfectly. He always had. Eventually, the podium had been constructed and the team slowly shuffled into a line. There was nothing left to do but wait for the trophy.

Owen wrapped his arms around George's waist and thought,  _I can't wait to get back to the hotel._ George shivered, resting his head on Owen's chest.  _We've got to celebrate with the team first. Be patient._ Owen shook his head.  _I've waited this long, I swear._ The line of players began to move on to the platform. Owen bent his head and whispered in George's ear, "You thought Italy was good? I'll make tonight even better."

George shuddered at his words. The older man smiled in satisfaction at the anticipation/frustration emanating from his boyfriend. "You'd better." George muttered. Then he was stepping forward to collect his medal, and they were both nearly crying. Owen had seen - and felt - the determination that George had put into rugby every day for over ten years. He couldn't think of someone who deserved this more. 

When a soulbond strengthens over a decade, there isn't much the soulmates don't know about each other. And George knew very well that Owen was a sucker for team success, even in insignificant matters like FIFA games. So it made sense that Owen was practically bawling as he joined his team on the podium.

Then Dylan was (slightly dazedly) hoisting the Six Nations trophy, the crowd were cheering and the boys were roaring. Owen looked at George, George looked back, and they each knew exactly what the other was thinking. The unspoken  _I love you_ electrified the air around them, mixing with the excitement/happiness/pride sparking in their veins. The soulmates were in a quiet world of their own, filled with winning and cheering and glistening blue-grey eyes.

The peace was shattered as Jack handed the trophy to George. They both stared at it for a moment, this shining piece of metal that symbolised their greatest achievement for England. As George lifted the Six Nations trophy above his head, Owen leaned in for a kiss.

In that moment, with their team around them, they knew what it was to be soulmates. In two words: perfect harmony.


End file.
